Loved and Lost
by KatieScarlet
Summary: My take on how Imhotep and Anck-su-Namun first fell in love. Mushy romance alert! ;-) Major editing done and many new scenes added as of 7601! [complete]
1. It Begins

Loved and Lost

**Loved and Lost**

Mummy Fanfic by Katie Sullivan, aka KatieScarlet  
Rated PG-13 for sexuality and mature themes

_**Version 2.0 as of 7/12/01** ~ My reviewers and I agreed, the first version was too rushed. Shakespeare might be able to get away with "WHAM! Love at first sight!" but I can't! _;-)_ So I added to and changed quite a bit of this fic. Chapter one is unchanged, but everything else, especially chapter two, is very different. If you've read it before, please give it another try, since I like it much better now and I think you will, too!. _:-)

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It was high summer in Thebes. The annual inundation had receded, leaving fertile land for farming all along the Nile. Workers who had been idle during the flooding or shifted to laboring at monument construction were now back in the fields, toiling under the baking equatorial sun to reap the bounty of the great river.

Hot, humid weather like this always made the women in the royal harem cranky. Those who were actually married to Pharaoh complained the least. They were secure for life. The concubines, however, knew their future depended on staying in the monarch's good graces. With the sticky, miserable weather that got much more difficult, as heat shortened tempers. Their only consolation was that Seti's appetite for women lessened in the steamy weather.

In fact, no one felt like doing anything, period. A few of the royal wives were occupied with weaving or music lessons, but most were enjoying the shade of one of the palace gardens. The older women, relatively speaking, laid on benches, being cooled by servants with ostrich feather fans. Many looked bored with life in general. The younger women stripped off what little clothing they wore and plunged into the welcome depths of the pool. Servants always kept the water free of debris and crystal-clear, despite the body paint that now swirled up in inky plumes from the swimming women. Occasionally a handmaiden would peek out from a window, looking vaguely distressed to realize she would soon be called upon to reapply the intricate body paint. The task was arduous at best and mind-numbingly tedious at worst.

Anck-su-Namun sat at the edge of the pool, enjoying the water tickling her bronze skin just below her knees. It was a pleasant enough way to pass the time, but she found herself wishing for anything to relieve the boredom. Every day, all summer, it was the same thing: lounge around looking beautiful, trying to pretend she didn't notice the backbiting and rivalries among the other women. Most of them left her alone, thankfully. Few saw her as a rival for the Pharaoh's affections, since she alone among the royal women did not encourage his advances. The others delighted in his semi-divine attentions, cooing and fawning over him in return for trinkets and status. Anck-su-Namun was sickened by the whole situation.

She never asked to become a concubine to the Lord of the Two Lands. She had planned to be a dancer or perhaps even a priestess in the temple of Osiris. Her widowed father was a successful merchant here in Thebes, paying for her education until she could read hieroglyphics as well as any scribe. As an only child, she was doted on but not spoiled. Her future looked promising, her prospects bright. Then her father risked his business on a single expedition, trading Nubian gold for turquoise gemstones mined from the Sinai. It should have been a fail-safe money-maker. Should have been, but wasn't. A tribe of Bedouins attacked the trade caravan, killing her father's men and stealing everything right down to the horses.

Anck-su-Namun's father was ruined, suddenly in debt up to his eyebrows. His financial empire crumbled overnight, and with it her future disintegrated like a desert mirage.

Within days a troupe of Med-Jai appeared at the doorstep. Her father had done business with the palace in the past, but now unsettled accounts made him an enemy of the crown. He had two choices: work off his debt slaving in a gold mine in Nubia, or sell his only daughter to the Pharaoh's harem. With distressingly little hesitation, he chose the latter. So fifteen-year-old Anck-su-Namun found herself ripped from her home, her family and her future and dumped into an entirely different world.

Now the best she could aspire to was to become Pharaoh's favorite concubine, perhaps even one of his wives. She could continue her education, but to what end? Her existence was now purely ornamental.

At first Seti made use of her often, intrigued by the novelty. But within a few months he tired of her and went back to more experienced lovers, which of course didn't bother her in the slightest. In her despair and loneliness, she threw herself into her combat training. Seti found pleasure in watching his women fight each other, particularly with golden ceremonial tridents. As a member of his harem, Anck-su-Namun was expected to learn this skill, and she took to it with gusto, channeling her hostility toward the world in general and Seti in particular into the ritualized combat. She soon surpassed her trainers in skill and gained renown as a master of the art.

But there was still something missing from her soul. She was spiritually adrift and cut off from any connection with humanity. Her father's betrayal had destroyed any affection she felt for him. The other wives and concubines kept their distance, unwilling to respond to any overtures of friendship, even after four years. As for the Pharaoh...well, Anck-su-Namun couldn't stand him. He was pompous and domineering, egotistical and power-hungry. He treated women like objects to be used and discarded, and was not above resorting to physical abuse when displeased. Anck-su-Namun hadn't experienced his violent side firsthand--yet--but she had seen the bruises on the other women. With so little clothing it was hard to hide such marks, although the handmaidens tried by doing creative things with body paint.

Anck-su-Namun closed her eyes and fluttered her legs in the tepid water, trying to shut out the sounds of the other women around her. She wanted to be someplace quiet, alone, away from all this mess. She felt trapped, smothered by a palace life that many women would have sold their souls to possess.

As she stood up, water ran down her legs onto the tiles, smearing her paint. Ignoring the curious looks of the few others who were alert enough to notice her departure, she went back inside the palace. Handmaidens swarmed around with towels and paintbrushes, quickly restoring the damage done by the pool. Anck-su-Namun was almost envious of the servants; at least they had something to do to make themselves feel useful. She was nothing more than a glorified statue.

There were few places outside the palace where the royal women were allowed to go. They didn't need to go to the market, since everything was provided for them. About the only excuse to go into the city was to visit the temples. Anck-su-Namun regularly made pilgrimages to the various religious structures, partly out of devotion and partly out of boredom. It was an excuse to get away from the stuffiness of the palace and experience a whiff of real life.

She was particularly faithful in her visits to the temple of Osiris. Despite being named after the god Set, Pharaoh Seti had been particularly generous to Osiris, restoring and expanding the god's temples and sparing no expense in his festivals. The High Priest of the cult of Osiris had more power and prestige than any of his counterparts, and was known to advise the Pharaoh on matters often unrelated to religion. Anck-su-Namun had seen him around the palace and the temple numerous times, but had never spoken to him. The royal women were branded as untouchable, quite literately. It wasn't forbidden to speak with them, but any man who touched them paid for the indiscretion with his life. Such extreme consequences discouraged conversation, to say the least.

Anck-su-Namun wove her way down the street toward the temple of Osiris with sure, athletic strides. People veered sharply out of her way, unwilling to get near her for fear of punishment. It was as if she were infected with a contagious disease.

Her bare feet were silent on the stone steps as she entered the temple. As she had hoped, it was blessedly quiet there. Only a few worshippers knelt in veneration before the altar, and they discreetly departed soon after realizing who had joined them. Anck-su-Namun was unable to kneel for fear of smudging her body paint, so she merely stood before the statue of Osiris, allowing herself to be lost in contemplation. She studied the face of the god, painted a gaudy green to symbolize his rebirth. The god of the underworld, pharaoh of the afterlife...

Had fate been kinder, she might have spent her days in such a peaceful place as this, serving the gods instead of their representative on earth. But how could Seti really be divine? she found herself wondering all too often. He was a man. A man as base and crude as any other, with appetites and weaknesses just like any man. He was hardly a god.

"Welcome, Princess," came a masculine voice from behind her. She turned with a start, snapping out of her reverie. It was one of the temple priests, his hairless body glistening with oils in the torchlight. But no, not just any priest. This, she realized, was the High Priest of Osiris himself, Imhotep. His fine black and gold robe hinted at such status, but the intricate scarab medallion around his neck confirmed it.

"Greetings, sir," she said, bowing her head low with the proper respect.

"I have seen you here before," he said uncertainly, studying her face. She was mildly impressed that, unlike so many men, he was able to keep his eyes on her face and not on the rest of her nearly uncovered body. "You are a devout follower of Osiris?"

She nodded, finding herself suddenly tongue-tied. His eye contact was intense and unwavering, and finally she found herself to be the one looking away. "I had once thought to become a priestess, my lord."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her immodest attire but tactfully said nothing.

"I enjoy the serenity here," she said, gesturing at the shadowy depths of the temple.

"As do I," he said with a charming smile, "but it would hardly be fair to keep such a beauty as yourself hidden away in a temple for all time. A woman such as you should be treasured, not cloistered."

She found herself blushing. She never blushed. She walked around with little of nothing for clothing nearly every day. She was essentially the Pharaoh's whore. She had gone past blushing a long time ago. Yet she was blushing now, flustered by his sparkling eyes.

Imhotep's bearing was regal, far more than Seti's ever was. He was at ease with himself, confident in his authority and content with his place in the world. Seti always seemed to be scrambling to prove himself great, erecting new monuments left and right, possessing more treasure and more women, all as if to scream to all the world, "Look at me! I'm the ruler of the most powerful kingdom on the face of the earth! Admire me!" Imhotep had no need of such posturing. He accomplished the same thing just by looking her in the eye.

Suddenly realizing that perhaps he had been too frank, the High Priest cleared his throat and stepped away from her as if to continue on his way. "Forgive me, Princess, if I overstepped my place."

"No," she said with a quickness that surprised even herself. "No, it's quite all right," she continued, realizing that shutting up now would only make things worse. "I...thank you."

He smiled again, freezing the breath in her throat. "You're quite welcome, princess. I'll leave you to your devotions now. Forgive my interruption."

She stammered something meaningless in reply and he continued on his way, soon lost in the shadowy depths of the temple. Without realizing what she was doing, Anck-su-Namun sank to her knees on a red cushion. Wow. That was...like nothing she'd ever experienced before. No one had ever looked at her like that. She'd been viewed with lust, revulsion, admiration, jealousy and indifference, but never anything quite like that. Something in his gaze made her heart feel like a butterfly faced with a field of fresh blossoms.

It was silly, of course. She didn't know him, he didn't know her, and they never would. She was one of Pharaoh's concubines; he was a High Priest. Egyptian priests generally had no vow of chastity to restrain them, but _no_ man was allowed near the royal women, no matter what his profession. They were the exclusive property of Pharaoh.

Still...

Anck-su-Namun closed her eyes, took a deep breath and frowned. Stop it, she told herself. You're being stupid. There's no sense in engaging in such ridiculous daydreams. You have no right to even contemplate it.

No, she simply had to forget this encounter never happened. Ignore her unexpectedly intense reaction. Forget the warm, dizzying feeling that swept over her at the sound of his voice. Forget the intoxicating effects of his gaze. Forget all about it.

She rose, silently cursed the smears of paint she had left on the cushion, and hurried out of the temple.

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Anck-su-Namun returned to the palace at dusk and wandered back to her chambers with a dreamy expression. Part of her was still back in the temple of Osiris. She was rudely jarred back into reality when handmaidens swarmed around her, clucking in disapproval over her smeared body paint. They hurried to reapply the delicate lines, repairing the damage with practiced ease. No one dared to ask how the paint had been disturbed.

The servants were barely done with their work when a stone-faced Med-Jai appeared in the doorway. "You," he said, pointing to Anck-su-Namun. "Pharaoh wants you."

For one fleeting moment she wondered if Seti was indeed divine and omniscient and had somehow sensed her thoughts of infidelity. Shaking off that ridiculous notion, she followed the Med-Jai to the royal bedchamber. The guard shut the door behind her, and she was alone with Pharaoh.

She needn't have worried about any psychic hints of betrayal. Seti had only one thing on his mind, and it didn't involve the temple of Osiris.

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Anck-su-Namun lingered in the shower, letting all traces of Seti and her paint be washed away. The water cascaded over her closed eyes, providing a brief but welcome escape from reality and masking the sound of her tears. If that was what love was, she had been foolish to daydream about it.

For the last few years Seti had more or less ignored her, but it seemed now her luck had run out. Perhaps it wasn't the beginning of a trend. Perhaps he'd resume ignoring her in favor of the other women. Or perhaps--her throat tightened with the thought--she might even become his favorite.

It was a dangerous game. If she failed to please him she'd be punished. If she pleased him too well she'd be called upon more often.

Anck-su-Namun felt trapped. She hated her life. She hated Pharaoh. She hated feeling so helpless.

Free from paint until morning, she curled up in bed and cried herself to sleep.

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	2. Sheltered

The noise of the other women chattering woke Anck

Loved and Lost, Chapter 2  
Mummy fanfic by Katie Sullivan  
Rated PG-13

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The next few weeks passed much the same way for Anck-su-Namun. She paid a visit to the temple of Osiris almost daily, hoping for a glimpse of High Priest Imhotep. He enchanted her, and merely seeing him striding regally through his domain was enough to cheer her on her lowest days.

And she was having plenty of low days. Pharaoh Seti had taken a renewed liking to her, and she was called to his bedchamber nearly every night. This resulted in the other women of the harem giving her the cold shoulder, jealously refusing even to speak to her.

To top it all off, Seti had commanded that, as the most skilled fighter in the harem, it would be her obligation...actually, he used the word "honor"... to teach the ways of combat to his favorite daughter, Nefertiri. Anck-su-Namun liked children, but Nefertiri was no child. Only two years Anck-su-Namun's junior, Nefertiri was just as much a woman as any of her father's concubines, and just as vain. Anck-su-Namun preferred the company of snakes to that of the young princess, but she was left with no choice. As her training progressed, Anck-su-Namun had to grudgingly admit that Nefertiri was a dedicated and skilled fighter. With enough practice, she might even surpass her trainer's ability. This, or course, only made Anck-su-Namun hate her more.

Between Seti's nightly demands and Nefertiri's training, Anck-su-Namun was perpetually exhausted. Aching and miserable, she barely had the energy to shower at the end of the day before falling into bed.

After drilling Nefertiri for hours, Anck-su-Namun wanted nothing more than to return to her quarters, clean up and have one of the servants give her a massage. It was not to be. Before she reached the harem, a Med-Jai stopped her in the corridor. "Pharaoh has asked for you."

She nearly wept. She was ready to drop. Her last round of exercises had been intended to zap Nefertiri's endurance and send her away at least partially as miserable as her trainer. Unfortunately, Anck-su-Namun's own energy had been decimated in the process. Watching a panting Nefertiri stagger away, dragging her heels, had been worth the extra effort. Now, however, when faced with an even more demanding task--

"Tell Pharaoh I am weary from his daughter's vigor in the training room, and he would find me a very unsatisfactory bed partner tonight," she said crankily, pushing past the startled Med-Jai. No one ever refused Pharaoh. No one. Anck-su-Namun didn't care. She resented Seti and everything he did, and the thought of him touching her now was repulsive. If she was punished, so be it.

Not five minutes later, as she peeled off her sweat-drenched workout clothes, the doors to her quarters burst open and the Pharaoh stormed in, his face flushed with rage. All too used to him seeing her undressed, Anck-su-Namun didn't bother to cover herself. She just stared at him impassively, far too tired and broken-spirited to care what he thought or did.

"Anck-su-Namun!" Seti roared, shoving her back onto the cool marble floor with a teeth-jarring jolt. "Have you forgotten your place, woman? You are a concubine! I am Pharaoh, the Great House, Lord of the Two Lands, Horus Rising! I speak directly to the gods!" He began kicking her, and Anck-su-Namun scrambled fruitlessly to get out of the way.

"My lord--" she tried, but he wasn't listening.

"You are mine! You come when I say, do what I say, when I say it! You do not question, you do not refuse, you simply _do_! Is that clear?"

She stammered in agreement, but he remained unconvinced. "You will never disobey me again! If you ever insult my Majesty in this way again, I will see you starved to death and left for the jackals!"

She tried to get to her knees to plead for his mercy, but he backhanded her across the face, sending her reeling back onto the hard floor. "Do you understand me?" he bellowed.

Through desperate, gasping sobs, she said, "Yes! Yes, my lord! I understand! Yes!"

"We shall see," he growled. He tore off his kilt, and she closed her eyes tightly, knowing what would follow.

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Dried blood made her lips feel stiff. She hurt in places she didn't know were capable of pain. She had passed out on the floor sometime during Seti's visit, and there she remained until dawn's first rays fell across her swollen eyes.

Anck-su-Namun wanted to cry, curse, scream, moan, and tell anyone within earshot just how horrible she felt. All she could manage was a hoarse whimper.

First things first. She had to get up off the floor. Every joint was on fire as she slowly began to move. Her limbs responded slowly and stiffly, as if she were a hundred and ten years old. Stumbling a little, she caught a corner of the bed for stability and levered herself into a standing position.

The room was spinning. Everything looked foreign and unfriendly. The only sound was a distant bird's chattering. It appeared none of the servants or other women were awake yet. Just as well. In their jealousy, they'd say she deserved it.

She had to get away from here, if only for a short time. The palace air was suffocating her. There was only one friendly face she could think of, and fortunately it belonged to a well-respected physician...although that was not his primary occupation.

Anck-su-Namun forced her trembling hands to function, dressing in a simple white dress with semi-transparent fabric. Not bothering with paint, makeup or her hair, she fled from the royal palace on shaky legs.

Ra's first rays cast long shadows across the street as Anck-su-Namun hurried toward the temple of Osiris. Every step hurt. Most of the vendors were still setting up in the marketplace, their conversations noisy and carefree. The night's torches were flickering on their last legs, barely illuminating the entryway of the temple. She hastened inside, hoping she wouldn't be noticed or recognized.

No one was there. The golden-skinned priests were all asleep in their cells, and no worshippers had arrived yet. She wandered the corridors in a daze, her eyes roaming aimlessly over the hieroglyphics in search of a clue. What appeared to be a dead end turned out to be the place she sought. A heavy wooden door blocked her way, the handle cast from the finest gold. A series of hieroglyphic symbols identified this as the entrance to the High Priest's chambers.

She stood for a moment, suddenly afraid. It was dangerous and probably futile to run for help this way. He was Seti's advisor, after all. He'd probably just tell her to put her chin up and feel privileged to be able to serve the crown in such a manner.

No, she told herself, shaking her head in the darkness. He was different. He would understand. He could help her.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked. There was no reply, so she tried again, more loudly.

"What is it?" came a blessedly familiar voice as the door began to open. Imhotep was still attempting to get his kilt adjusted. Judging by his clouded eyes, he had been sleeping, probably _au naturale_. He was obviously expecting one of his priests, because when he looked up from fussing with his hastily-donned clothing, he merely stared for several long seconds. After his initial surprise, his face molded into an expression of concern. "Princess! What are you doing here at this hour? And what has happened to you?"

He cared. She opened her mouth to explain, but only a sob came out. "I...I..."

"There, there," he said softly. "Come inside; I will tend to your wounds. Talk when you're ready."

He stepped aside and shooed her into his chambers. The lack of light and unmade bed confirmed her guess that she had woken him up. "I'm sorry," she blubbered, wiping tears off her face with the back of her hand. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I just..."

He handed her a square cloth to dry her eyes and provided a drink of cool water. "It's all right, Princess. A physician is obligated to attend to patients at any hour, after all." Imhotep lit a pair of torches, then went to a cupboard on the other side of the room and began searching through various herbs and potions.

Her aching legs began to fail her, and she plopped down into a high-backed chair. Imhotep returned a moment later with a damp cloth and a shallow bowl filled with some sort of gray paste. He crouched before her, his eyes riveting in the dim light. "I will have to touch you, Princess."

"I won't tell anyone if you won't," she said with a sniffle.

"Very well." Carefully, he used the wet cloth to clean the blood from her lip and chin. She flinched a little and held her breath. Next he dabbed some of the paste on her wound, instantly soothing the sharp pain.

"Try not to lick that off, now," he said, and she nodded.

At last she composed herself enough to speak. "Thank you, my lord. Thank you so very much. I didn't know where else to turn."

Imhotep pulled up a stool so he sat facing her and looked deep into her eyes with concern, as if trying to read her mind. "Who did this to you?"

She swallowed. How could she tell him? Fresh tears moistened her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

He narrowed his eyes. "It was him, wasn't it?"

There was no need to elaborate. They both knew who "he" was. She nodded miserably.

Imhotep shook his head slowly, a deep frown crossing his handsome face. "I had heard tales, but I never believed them. I never wanted to..."

"Please, don't tell him I came to you. He would only hurt me again."

"I will say nothing. But you... It will happen again, nonetheless."

They were silent for a few moments.

He sighed. "If you were a normal wife, I would advise you to leave him. No woman deserves to be treated thus."

Her eyes widened. Such talk bordered on treason.

"Especially," he continued, "not one as lovely as yourself. What is your name, by the way? I have seen you around my temple and the palace many times, but I have not had the honor of being introduced."

Flustered by his gentlemanly manners, she did something she would have thought impossible just a short time ago: she smiled. "I am Anck-su-Namun."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," he said with an appreciate nod. "I am High Priest Imhotep...but then you already knew that."

A further impossibility occurred. She giggled. "Yes. I know."

"I have seen you, Anck-su-Namun. I have seen you in my temple many times a week. I have seen you among the other women, so much more beautiful and vibrant than any of them. I have seen you fight, possessing both strength and elegance in a way that rivals the warrior goddess Sekhmet. And although I have just now learned your name, I have always admired you from afar."

She blushed a little, amazed at her ability to do so. Why did he always have that effect on her?

"Forgive me, Princess, I should not speak so. Sleep still clouds my judgement. You came for a physician, not a poet."

"It's fine," she said, still grinning.

He fidgeted with the bowl of ointment for a few seconds, then met her eyes again. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Her expression saddened again. "I fear not. My other hurts are inside." She lowered her gaze and added in a barely audible whisper, "And in my heart."

Nevertheless, he went to his medicine cabinet once more and brought her a papyrus envelope containing dusty gray-green leaves. "For the pain," he said, handing them to her. "Mix these with water every few hours and drink them as a tea. It will help the pain and relax you."

She clasped the small packet to her chest like a priceless jewel. "Thank you."

He bowed his head a little, a gesture completely unnecessary, considering his rank. "You are most welcome, Princess Anck-su-Namun. I... I only wish I could do more." He led her back to the main entrance of the temple in silence. "Come see me if you need more of that medicine," he said at last.

"I will. Even if I don't," she said with a weak smile.

He returned her smile and watched as she melted into the growing crowd in the bazaar.

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By the time she returned to the harem, the other women were awake and going through the tedious morning toilet, having their bodies painted and wigs prepared. A few gave her sly looks as if to say, "Serves you right!" Anck-su-Namun couldn't understand why they were jealous. Pharaoh's attentions were hardly something to envy, she thought as she studied her bruises in the polished bronze mirror. If Pharaoh started ignoring her again, she'd be thrilled.

She hated admitting any weakness, but in her condition there was no way she could conduct Nefertiri's training regimen that day. Pleading illness, she sent word to the Princess to practice on her own instead. Whether she would follow her instructions or not, Anck-su-Namun didn't care. Knowing Nefertiri, she'd probably take the opportunity to sneak off with her Med-Jai lover, Rashidi. His name meant "wise," but Anck-su-Namun considered him foolish to fall for the contemptible princess. She couldn't see what Nefertiri saw in him, either. He was a bit of a rogue, always on the lookout for a good time, regardless of the consequences. Yet he was an excellent warrior, well-respected by his fellow Med-Jai.

Anck-su-Namun did her best to ignore everyone else, fellow concubines, servants and Med-Jai alike, and rest. It wasn't easy; she was used to being active and hated feeling weak. She should have gotten used to feeling helpless, in her years in the harem, but she never liked it.

She spent the day in seclusion in her chambers, centering herself and drinking Imhotep's tea. It did indeed dull the pain and relax her, but it was also spiritually renewing. Every time she sipped the soothing tea, she was reminded of his soft smile, gracefully solid body, captivating eyes, and, more importantly, the fact that he cared. Since her father's betrayal, there had been no one in the world who cared about her. She had contemplated suicide in the early days in the harem. If she died, no one would miss her. Seti would raise and eyebrow, perhaps sigh a bit, and go right on to the next concubine. The other women would be happy to be rid of another rival. She had no family. No one cared if she even existed...until now.

Anck-su-Namun laid back in a nest of cushions with a contented sigh, clutching the cup of tea and dreaming of the High Priest.

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Anck-su-Namun exulted. Pharaoh had completely ignored her for an entire week. Perhaps he was as repulsed by her resistance as she was by his abusive insistence. He returned his attention to his previous favorite and one of the other girls--sometimes at the same time--and left her alone.

Her bruises faded, her aches subsided, her cut lip healed...but her heart had been hardened. She'd never liked Pharaoh, and had always resented him. Sometimes she thought she hated him, but now she knew she had been mistaken. She had merely disliked him before. **Now** she hated him. Her hate smoldered beneath the surface, twinned by another growing fire--her attraction to Imhotep.

It was impossible and she knew it, but her heart wasn't listening to logic. Imhotep was everything Seti wasn't: kind, gentle, thoughtful, and respectful. He treated her like a human being.

She began neglecting her visits to the other temples in favor of Osiris'. No one noticed. After Nefertiri's training sessions, Anck-su-Namun would shower and dress, submit to being painted by the servants, and head into the city. It was usually dusk before she returned. It became such a routine that no one questioned it. She had always been a devoted follower of the gods, after all.

Imhotep became accustomed to meeting her at the main entrance of the temple. At first she thought it a remarkable coincidence that he was always milling around there when she arrived, but soon she realized it was because he was as eager to see her as she was to see him.

On one such a day, she arrived in a short white kilt, smudged with the body paint that covered the rest of her body. Her hair was braided with a string of golden beads, matched by gold bracelets. Nefertiri had been exceptionally sullen during training, putting her instructor in an especially good mood. She ascended the stairs into the temple quickly, her bare feet light on the sun-warmed stone.

Imhotep was standing with his hands folded behind his back, resplendent in a layered black robe over a green-and-gold kilt. He had been ostensibly meditating before an elaborate tile mural depicting the resurrection of Osiris, but he was instantly alert when he heard her soft footsteps behind him. He turned with a smile which widened when she bowed to him.

"My lord."

"Princess." He glanced at the sun. "You are punctual."

"Thank you," she said with another little bow.

He led her into the temple's rear garden, where they could speak with less formality, out of earshot of the worshippers. The other priests were used to her visits and suspected the reason was not mere religious devotion, but they politely ignored it. Their respect for their High Priest was great, and they wouldn't dream of judging him.

A hesitant breeze ruffled the palms as they walked through the gardens, finally stopping at a stone bench on the far end. He brushed aside a stray flower petal from the seat and gestured for her to sit.

"What beautiful weather! Set has been kind to us this summer," Anck-su-Namun said conversationally as he sat down beside her.

"Indeed. And...Set**i**?"

"I cannot say he has been kind, but he has ignored me in favor of more obedient women," she said with a somber expression. "I can only hope it will last."

He nodded, glanced down, and froze. "Don't...move!"

"What is it?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"There is an asp between your feet," he whispered.

She calmly looked down. Sure enough, a fat snake was slowly winding its way between her bare feet. "Is that all?" He slowly bent down and picked the snake up in her hands. "Hello," she cooed, letting the serpent coil itself around her wrists and arms.

Imhotep gaped in astonishment. "Th-those are poisonous, you know."

"Yes. Quite poisonous, actually. But I have a way with them. We...understand each other." She gave a snake-like smile herself.

He swallowed nervously. "Well...uh..."

"You prefer cats?" she said with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes, purposely allowing the snake to stray toward him.

"Actually, I detest cats."

She raised an eyebrow. Such a viewpoint was unpopular in feline-fancying Egypt.

"They...they give me the creeps."

She laughed. "You, the High Priest of Osiris, afraid of cats?"

"I didn't say I was afraid of them. I said they gave me the creeps."

"There's a difference?"

"Yes!" he said with a frown, and she decided not to push the matter further. She gently set the snake down on the tiled path, and it slithered off without a care in the world. Imhotep shook his head in amazement. "I am constantly discovering more sides to you, Anck-su-Namun. You have more facets than the finest gemstone, and more beauty as well."

She smiled modestly. "I wish..." Her smile faded.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"I wish things were different. I wish I wasn't tied to Pharaoh. I wish I didn't have to wear all this miserable body paint. I wish I could control my own destiny. I wish...I wish you could touch me." He never had, when not acting as her physician.

"As do I, Anck-su-Namun."

She lifted a hand as if to touch his face, but was unable to bring herself to break the taboo. She couldn't bear to endanger his life that way. Instead she lightly ran her delicate hand over his features, torturously close to touching his bronzed skin but not actually coming in contact. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, fighting to keep self-control.

"Imhotep...I'm afraid," she whispered. "I shouldn't be having these thoughts, but I can't stop them from coming. I see you in my dreams, I yearn to be at your side, and I... I'm sorry, I just can't. It's too dangerous." She stood suddenly, not trusting herself to remain so close to him. "If Pharaoh knew of my feelings for you, he'd..." The threat of tears closed her throat, and she merely shook her head.

"Anck-su-Namun," he said patiently, standing up. "I understand. It is not our place to act on such impulses. You are Pharaoh's. But know this." He took a step toward her, and she couldn't bear to back away. "I do share your feelings. If things were different..." His voice trailed off, and he looked away with a deep sigh. "You should go."

She nodded sadly. "I should, yes. I'll...be seeing you around?"

"Of course."

Her head low, Anck-su-Namun turned and walked back inside the temple, leaving a downcast Imhotep standing in the early evening shadows.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	3. Surrender

It was late one evening

Loved and Lost, Chapter 3  
Mummy fanfic by Katie Sullivan  
Rated PG-13  


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Princess Nefertiri wasn't prepared for Anck-su-Namun's attack, and fell on her back on the practice room floor, panting and gasping for air. Her golden tridents skittered across the floor. "No more," she wheezed. "I must rest!"

Anck-su-Namun twirled a pair of golden tridents lightly in her hands and looked down at her pupil with disdain. "You tire so easily, Princess. We must work to build up your stamina."

"I have not been sleeping well as of late," Nefertiri said between ragged breaths.

Anck-su-Namun lowered a knowing eyebrow. Judging by the marks on the side of her neck, the Princess and her Med-Jai "friend" had been having a very good time lately. Jealousy welled up in Anck-su-Namun's chest, and she narrowed her eyes. "As Pharaoh himself has told me, fatigue is no excuse."

Nefertiri shot her trainer an annoyed look, guessing the cause of that comment. "Yes, well, I am a free woman. My time is my own."

"Not true. Your father has given you responsibilities. And we must all do our duty to Pharaoh, don't you agree?" Anck-su-Namun said slyly, studying the razor-sharp edge on a spear in the wall rack.

Nefertiri glared at her and stalked from the room, leaving her tutor to pick up her discarded weapons. Anck-su-Namun did so, and promptly pitched them at the door the Princess had just exited through, embedding the two tridents deep in the wood. Nefertiri was long gone by then, of course, but the small, unwitnessed act of defiance soothed Anck-su-Namun's temper a trifle. Clenching her teeth in hatred, she yanked the weapons free.

It wasn't fair. Nefertiri got anything she wanted. Free time, education, jewelry...lovers...

Anck-su-Namun slumped to her knees on a reed mat, studying her own weapons half-heartedly. It had been over a week since she had seen Imhotep. He was right, of course. They had to maintain a distance. If anyone suspected their true feelings for each other, the punishment would be severe. It was best to stay away and pretend nothing was happening.

But something was. Even after a week without seeing his face, Anck-su-Namun could recall every detail, and her heart ached to hear his voice again.

She had to let him go. It wouldn't be the first of her dreams to be shattered, after all.

Her heart heavy and her eyes on the floor, Anck-su-Namun retreated to her quarters for a long shower, one of the few pleasures left to her that wasn't connected to Imhotep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The noise of the other women chattering woke Anck-su-Namun earlier than she would have liked. She put the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to ignore the noise, but it was useless. Time to get up and see what all the fuss was about.

She slipped on a diaphanous robe and slowly made her way into the common room, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. "What's going on?" she mumbled to the nearest woman.

"Haven't you heard? Pharaoh has ordered a special festival to thank Osiris for the bountiful Inundation!" The other woman squirmed with excitement as servants arranged her perfumed wig. Everyone in the harem was in a tizzy of preparation, giddy in a whirl of make-up, wigs and jewelry.

Anck-su-Namun nodded. She hadn't heard, but it wasn't surprising. Before she was properly awake, a pair of maidservants whisked her off to her own dressing table and hurried to prepare her.

Soon she was painted from her shoulders to her ankles once more, clad in a scanty loincloth and a golden pectoral decoration that barely covered her breasts. A servant affixed a perfumed cone atop her head amid a nest of golden beads. In the heat of the afternoon the cone would slowly melt and keep away any odor. This one smelled of lotus blossoms, her favorite.

As the last to rise, Anck-su-Namun was also the last to depart. She hurried to catch up with the other women, running down the torch-lit marble corridor in an undignified fashion. At last she took her place in the back of the line, barely winded thanks to her combat training. She straightened the ornaments in her hair and tried not to dread the day's festivities. At public functions like this Pharaoh always paraded his women around, taunting other men with their untouchable beauty and boasting of his numerous conquests. Some conquests, Anck-su-Namun though with a derisive sniff. As if we have any choice...

A Med-Jai guard led the line of chattering women down to the banks of the Nile, where Seti and his Great Royal Wife--the only one with any real status--sat on a dais surrounded by flowers, guards and servants.

The other women lined up in front of the platform where the Lord of the Two Lands sat. All but one regarded him with their most charming smiles. Anck-su-Namun simply managed not to glower.

Then she saw him. Clad in an elaborate black-and-gold loincloth and an intricate scarab pectoral underneath a long, dark robe, the High Priest of Osiris stood at Pharaoh's right. His oiled skin shone in the early morning sunlight, and his smile was even brighter. He noticed her, standing almost directly before and below him, and struggled not to be distracted by her presence.

Now Anck-su-Namun smiled, and no one but Imhotep could tell that she wasn't smiling at Pharaoh.

Oh, she had missed him! She hadn't seen him in over two weeks, now. A very long, empty two weeks. Not a day went by without him crossing her mind, and judging by the slightly pained look that passed over his face when he first saw her he was had missed her just as acutely.

Seti rose, holding the ceremonial crook and flail of his office, and addressed the gathered crowd with a booming voice, spouting rhetoric about the glory of Egypt and the generous nature of Osiris. The people were eating it up, the royal women hanging on his every word. Anck-su-Namun was completely ignoring him. Her eyes were focused slightly to the right of everyone else's, mesmerized by the presence of the High Priest.

She automatically applauded when Seti concluded his speech, but her eyes never left Imhotep. He was aware of her staring at him, but was trying almost too hard not to return her gaze. Seti was too busy basking in the adoration of his people to notice.

Soon Imhotep was forced to tear his attention away from his silent admirer and conduct the ritual part of the ceremony.

"Hail to Osiris, living forever! Lord of the Afterworld, Beloved of Isis, Father of Horus..." he intoned.

Everyone else's eyes joined Anck-su-Namun in watching as the High Priest performed his duties.

The smell of incense stung her nostrils, adding to the dizziness already inflicted by his mere presence. Chanting and music filled the air, the run rose higher and higher, the heat grew more oppressive...

Anck-su-Namun dimly heard startled gasps through the haze as she crumpled to the ground in a faint.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She awoke in a cool, shadowy place. The crowds of people were gone. Everything was quiet. She was...no, not alone. Who...? She opened her eyes groggily, but what she saw convinced her she was still unconscious and dreaming.

Imhotep leaned over her, bathing her brow with a damp cloth. "Ah. You awaken," he said with a relieved smile.

"Where am I? What happened?" she mumbled. She tried to sit up, but he put a hand on her shoulder to keep her flat. It wasn't a remarkable gesture in and of itself...except that he had touched her. Her eyes grew wide with alarm, and he soothed her with a quiet "ssh."

"Do not be alarmed, Princess. It's all right."

"But--"

"Pharaoh has given me permission to administer to you." He put a cushion behind her head to raise it slightly and brought a shallow bowl to her lips. "Drink."

She did. It was something cool and herbal, immediately refreshing.

Convinced she could hold the bowl herself, Imhotep sat down on a stool at her bedside. "You were overcome with the heat of Ra and passed out," he explained.

She nodded, although it was not only the heat of _Ra_ that had overwhelmed her.

"Where am I?" she asked again.

"The temple of Osiris," he said.

She looked around. The shades were drawn to keep out the light and heat, but even in the shadows she realized this was a room she had never been in before. It appeared to be a priests' cell, sparsely furnished with only the bare essentials.

"Pharaoh was concerned for your health," Imhotep said, sounding vaguely surprised.

She sniffed skeptically. "Pharaoh cares nothing for me. You know that as well as I. I am just another bauble in his collection. He can't even pronounce my name correctly."

"How does he say it?"

She sipped from the bowl again. "Ah-_nuck_-soon-_yah_-minn. Not Ah-_nuck_-soo-na-_moon_. And if he was concerned about my health, I'd wager he was actually suspicious of my faithfulness. He has not lain with me for several moon-cycles. If I fainted because I was pregnant it would mean I had betrayed him, and my life would be forfeit. He asked you to examine me with that in mind, didn't he?"

He hesitated. "You are very perceptive."

"I know Seti."

"It is dangerous to speak that way about Pharaoh, you know."

"I know. I don't care. Nothing matters anymore. If he had me killed...I think sometimes it would be a relief."

"Don't say such a thing! You are a treasure, your life a gift."

"I'm a glorified whore, and my life is meaningless." She found herself near tears, relieved to him there to listen once more. Forgetting the danger in such talk, forgetting even her attraction to him, she poured out years of pent-up frustration and despair, sobbing as she had not done since she was a child. She told of her dashed hopes, her shattered future, her loneliness, her lack of purpose, her hatred for the man the rest of the country worshipped as a god. Before she knew quite what was happening, she found herself being hugged. Imhotep put his strong arms around her and soothed her with calm words, assuring her that things were not hopeless, that her life did have meaning.

"Why..." she began through her sniffles. "Why can't Seti be more like you?"

Imhotep looked down into her dark, tear-rimmed eyes and shook his head. "He doesn't deserve you."

She managed a weak smile. "It is dangerous to speak that way about Pharaoh, you know."

"I know. I don't care." 

And he kissed her. It was brief but intense, fervent yet gentle, and made her feel faint all over again.

"We can't-- I can't-- You can't--" she stammered in anguish, wanting the moment to last forever.

"Osiris may be the king of the gods, but Hathor, goddess of love, can overcome anything," he murmured, holding her tightly to his chest. "I have tried to ignore Hathor's summons, but I can do so no longer. Anck-su-Namun--I love you."

"I...I..." Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she buried her face in the folds of his robe. "I think I love you, too, Imhotep."

"You think?" he said with faint amusement.

"Yes. No. I mean, I...it's so... I do," she stammered. "I do love you. But I can't! My heart is not mine to give."

"But it is, Anck-su-Namun. Your body may be Pharaoh's property, but your heart is your own."

She uncovered her face and looked up at him, trembling. "Then I...I give it to you."

"As do I." He kissed her a second time, and she eagerly returned his affections.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anck-su-Namun felt complete and happy for the first time in her life. This was beyond social standing, titles or status, beyond earthly constraints, beyond even physical pleasure. Her soul was content. If she died tomorrow--as well she might, considering what she had just done--she would face Anubis with a smile, for at last she knew what it meant to truly be alive.

Lying curled against the warm body of her newly-found soul mate, everything seemed perfect. "Imhotep?" she murmured.

"Mmm?"

"You were supposed to help me cool off."

"So I failed," he said, sounding quite unconcerned.

"Not really. You were also supposed to make me feel better."

"I did that?"

"Oh, yes," she said, nuzzling her face against his shoulder.

"I was supposed to examine you for pregnancy, too..."

"You've more than examined me," she said with a giggle. "But I can assure you, unless something's changed in the last hour--I'm not pregnant."

"That was my professional opinion, yes."

"Good. Pharaoh will be pleased." The statement was absurd, all things considered, and she laughed a little at the irony.

They were silent for a few moments, the mood darkened by the thought of Seti.

Finally, Imhotep turned to face her. "Come away with me. My position has brought me more wealth than I can use. We'll take what we can carry and escape to another land. Hatti, Nubia, Syria...it doesn't matter, as long as we're together."

"We can't. We'd never make it. Pharaoh has eyes and ears everywhere. We'd be killed long before we were out of Egypt."

"I can't live without you, Anck-su-Namun."

"I didn't live until I found you, Imhotep," she said. "But if we betray the Pharaoh like that, the gods will smite us for our blasphemy."

"We have already betrayed him, and look! We're still here."

"For now. At any moment we could be discovered."

He sighed, realizing that her practical viewpoint was the proper one. "You are right. How I wish you weren't, my love! We will bide our time, for now. But someday, Anck-su-Namun, somewhere...we will be together forever. I promise you."

She made a contented noise as he kissed her once again. He tore himself away and stood, gathering up their clothes. "Come, dress, and I will help you wash off the rest of that paint."

"I could say the same to you," she said with a laugh as he noticed for the first time how much of her paint had ended up on his own skin.

"Er...yes," he said with an embarrassed smile.

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Considering her fainting spell, no one was surprised to see Anck-su-Namun flushed and shaky when she returned to the palace. Her lack of paint was easily explained by a medicinal bath administered by the priest to cool her fevered skin. The maidservants sent her straight to bed, where she drifted off into dreams of Imhotep.

Perhaps concerned or repulsed by her fragility, or even still angry from their previous clash, Seti continued to shun Anck-su-Namun from his bedchamber. She bribed a maidservant to show her how to apply her own body paint, so she could repair the damage done by her secret paramour before returning to the palace. No one noticed or questioned the resumed frequency of her visits to the temple of Osiris. She had always been a devout follower of that particular deity. No one suspected that her visits now were not inspired by religious devotion. Neither did anyone notice her sneaking down to the Nile to gather crocodile dung--an unpleasant but common agent of birth control. With Seti ignoring her, she had no excuse to show up pregnant.

While Anck-su-Namun and Imhotep were indeed sharing a bed, it was so much more than mere physical pleasure that drew them together. Meaningless copulation was Seti's department. What they were sharing now was a full-fledged romance, with all the niceties that went along with it. Moonlit walks were out of the question, considering her curfew, but watching the sunset became a regular activity. Shared meals, long talks, music, jokes and the simple joy of being together filled their clandestine meetings. Each time they were in each other's arms, Anck-su-Namun wished to stay there forever, but sunset always came, and she always had to return to the palace. She could never know the contentment of sharing an entire day and night with the man she loved. Her heart sang with ecstasy and wailed with despair almost daily. There had to be a way. If only Seti were out of the picture...

Anck-su-Namun stared at the marble ceiling of her bedchamber, feeling chilled by her treasonous thoughts. She sighed and rolled over to embrace a lifeless pillow, yearning for Imhotep's comforting voice in her ear. He always made her feel better. He calmed her jitters, quieted her fears, kept her dreams alive...

She wanted to be with him every day, all day, forever. No more of this skulking around like a criminal. What her heart felt wasn't wrong. There was no reason she and Imhotep couldn't be married and share the rest of their lives. No reason except Pharaoh Seti I.


	4. A Tragic Turn

Loved and Lost

Loved and Lost, Chapter 4  
Mummy fanfic by Katie Sullivan  
Rated PG-13

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It was late one evening, the autumn chill sending a shiver through Anck-su-Namun's scarcely-clothed body. She hurried through the streets, ignoring the way people jostled fearfully to get away from her. In her hands was a wide basket filled with fruit from the palace's gardens. It was an offering to Osiris from Pharaoh, and as the god's most faithful worshipper, she was the natural choice to deliver it to the temple. None of the other women were as religiously inclined, and Seti praised Anck-su-Namun for her reverence. If only he knew! she thought with a thrill of terrified irony.

She hurried into the temple and placed the offering on the altar. There were a few worshippers kneeling in contemplation before the green-faced deity. Imhotep silently gestured to her from behind a pillar, and she unobtrusively followed him into the shadows. He led her to his chambers, shut the door behind them, and only then allowed himself the forbidden luxury of touching her. She wrapped her arms around him and breathed in his familiar scent, reveling in the sensations produced by his hands dancing across her back.

"Anck-su-Namun..." he breathed. "I was worried you weren't coming. It's late, and I haven't seen you all week! I've been starving for you, my darling."

She began quivering, and he suddenly realized she was on the verge of tears. "My love? What is wrong?" he asked, immediately leading her over to a chair.

"Pharaoh...he's..._interested_ in me, again," she said miserably.

Imhotep grimaced. "Oh, no."

"Yes. He's called for me every day this week. That's why I haven't been able to come here."

"Do you think he suspects anything?"

"No. I don't think so. But, Imhotep, he...he says he likes me so well that he...he wants to make me one of his wives!"

"No!"

"Yes! I can't refuse, of course, but oh, how I want to! I...I hate him! I just can't-- I--" She dissolved into tears, and he held her close, wiping the moisture from her cheeks with a corner of his robe.

"Ssh... There, there, Anck-su-Namun. It will be all right...somehow..."

"What are we going to do, Imhotep?" she cried. "I can't marry him! I just can't! I'd rather die!"

He looked away. "That _is_ an option..."

"What?"

"Anck-su-Namun, what I'm about to tell you is one of the priesthood's greatest secrets. But because you are like the other half of my soul, I feel I can tell you anything, and... There is a book. A cursed black book, sealed in Hamunaptra."

"The city of the dead?"

"Yes. And the book of which I speak is the Book of the Dead."

"That actually exists?" she asked, her eyes widening. Her tears subsided as her fascination grew.

"It does, but its use is forbidden. With that book it is possible to raise the dead."

"R-raise the dead?" she echoed in horror.

"But to do so upsets Ma'at, the universal order of the cosmos. Life and death are natural cycles, after all, but..."

"But...?"

He clasped her hands in his. "But for you, my beloved Anck-su-Namun, I would risk the wrath of men and gods. If you die in the quest to be free of Seti, I will bring you to life again, so that you may share that life with me."

"You could...do that?" she gasped.

"I could, and I would. For you."

The room and her head seemed to be spinning in different directions. "You're serious?"

"I am."

She pulled him close, drawing strength from him. "Tomorrow night Pharaoh will announce his intention to marry me. Afterwards I am to fight Princess Nefertiri in ritual combat. Seti hinted that he has a great responsibility to bestow upon her. Anyway, if I do not attend, I will surely be missed. But after that, we will have some time. Enough time, perhaps, to escape from Egypt. Prepare your things. As soon as the banquet is over, we will go."

"It shall be so," he said, nodding gravely. "You will be married soon, Anck-su-Namun. But not to Seti."

She hugged him close and blinked back tears of joy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anck-su-Namun knew she wouldn't have the opportunity to take many, if any, of her possessions with her when she fled. She gathered a few of her best jewelry pieces and put them in a small sack under her pillow. If the opportunity presented itself she would take them along to finance their new start, but nothing of sentimental value would burden her. She wanted to forget her past and concentrate only on her future with Imhotep.

The banquet was starting. She slipped into the short gold kilt in which she always fought and grabbed the impassive gold mask that would protect her face. The equally golden tridents were reassuring in her hands as she strode into the huge chamber. There were people everywhere, courtiers, servants, guards, and other royal women. Seti sat on atop a stone staircase, crowned and cocky as always. By the applause that greeted Anck-su-Namun, it was apparent he had already made the betrothal announcement. It was just as well; she couldn't have looked happy about it even if she tried. Now she was expected to be serious, centering herself before the fight.

Nefertiri was waiting for her in similar combat regalia. She was nearly the same age as Anck-su-Namun, yet another reason the thought of marrying Seti turned her stomach. The Princess was eager to prove herself before her illustrious father. If she could defeat her teacher and the champion of the sport at the same time, so much the better.

Imhotep was watching his beloved with admiration and encouragement, standing beside Seti as the close advisor he was...but would soon cease to be. Anck-su-Namun did her best to ignore him and the pounding of her heart. She had to concentrate.

She and Nefertiri snapped their golden masks on and adopted fighting poses, tridents at the ready. Seti gave the word to begin, and the two women threw themselves into mock battle with gusto. Both were skilled, and the male members of the audience were to be treated to a longer match than usual. Imhotep was confident his lover could defeat the Princess, and the thought of their impending elopement made the whole evening just that much more thrilling. For the moment, at least, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the spectacle.

He occasionally stole a sidelong glance at the Pharaoh, who was watching the display with a wide grin. He exhibited a disturbing mix of lust for the next addition to his collection of wives, and a paternal pride at his daughter's skills. Imhotep managed not to frown. He had never disliked Seti before, having seen him only as a ruler. Now that Anck-su-Namun was in the picture, however, he truly saw how flawed the monarch was.

Anck-su-Namun gained the upper hand and flung Nefertiri to the hard marble floor. The Princess lifted her mask and glared up at her instructor, panting from the exertion of the battle but clearly not about to admit defeat. Anck-su-Namun briefly raised her own mask to meet her opponent eye-to-eye. "Put your mask on. Let's not scar that pretty face," she taunted, teasing Nefertiri's pulsing neck with her spear point.

In one fluid movement, the Princess slipped her mask back over her face and vaulted to her feet, and the battle began anew. Although Nefertiri was goaded on by her opponent and had more than enough enthusiasm, she again found herself at the losing end of Anck-su-Namun's weapon.

"You are learning quickly, Nefertiri," she said in a tone that made the comment seem less like a compliment and more like a challenge. "I'll have to watch my back."

"Yes," the Princess said with a scowl, "and I'll have to watch mine."

They could easily have fought a third round, but Seti stood and began down the stairs to the main floor, clapping in appreciation. "Bravo! Bravol!" he cheered. The two women backed away from each other, sharing one last venomous look before surrendering to Pharaoh's praise. "Who better to protect the Bracelet of Anubis than my daughter, Nefertiri?" So _that_ was the announcement he had made regarding her. Anck-su-Namun cursed herself for being late. "And," Seti continued, "who better to protect me than my future wife, Anck-su-Namun?"

The crowd applauded, despite his mispronunciation of her name. 

Seti embraced Nefertiri warmly, his back to Anck-su-Namun.

Maintaining a prayerful, reverent posture, Imhotep descended the stairs to exit, followed by a group of golden-skinned priests from his temple. Anck-su-Namun warned herself not to look at him. They mustn't let anyone know of a connection between them. Not yet. But she couldn't help it. She found her eyes magnetically drawn to his bronzed body as he passed by with regal grace in his stride. Her heart swelled with love, and she found herself turning her neck to look upon him for just a second more. He did the same, unable to look away. Finally, he walked out of sight, and she turned back toward Pharaoh, who was just concluding his embrace of his daughter.

Anck-su-Namun breathed deeply. Hopefully no one had seen that moment of weakness. The way Nefertiri was watching her suspiciously made her wonder, though. No matter. The Princess could never accuse her of infidelity because if she did Anck-su-Namun would tell Pharaoh about her liasons with a Med-Jai. The threat of mutual blackmail kept them from open hostility, but there was certainly no love lost between pupil and teacher.

Anck-su-Namun's gold-painted lips twisted into a faint smile. Before Ra rose again she and Imhotep would be away from this place, and she'd never have to see that bastard Seti or his little brat ever again.

She retrieved her gold tridents and stalked back to the harem to prepare.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Servants helped her shower and change clothes. Her battle gear was replaced by a brief brown loincloth and especially intricate body paint. So late in the evening, that could only mean one thing: Seti wanted her to join him. Fear rose in Anck-su-Namun's throat. That meant she and Imhotep would be delayed. Yet he was coming here, to the harem, any moment, to fetch her!

She had to think fast.

"Auset," she said, addressing one of the servants, "Pharaoh asked me to bring him a basket of lotus flowers. Their scent pleases him. I wish to meditate with Bast before our meeting. You and the others go to the gardens and pick a large basket of the finest blossoms."

"What sort of lotus blossoms my lady? Large or small?"

"Either."

"Should we pick them from the east garden or the south garden? There are so many in the south garden, but the east garden has the largest blossoms."

"It matters not," Anck-su-Namun said, grinding her teeth to restrain her temper. "Just go and get some."

"Where should we get a basket, my lady?"

"I don't know! Ask one of the gardeners."

"I fear they will not allow a mere servant to take their finest blossoms, my lady. Could you perhaps come along for a moment to tell them it is all right?"

"All right, fine, fine. Just hurry. I can't--er, keep Pharaoh waiting."

"Yes, my lady."

Silently cursing, Anck-su-Namun led her servants to the east garden, tracked down a gardener, told him to let them pick the flowers, and then hurried back to her quarters. Imhotep was probably already there. She had to tell him that Seti was expecting her, and that their departure would be delayed. Not a Med-Jai in sight, she noted as she neared her quarters. Good. A pair of golden-skinned, bald priests were at her door. That meant _he_ was here. Also good.

She entered the room with bold strides, eager to see her beloved but not wanting to seem undignified by running. It was all going to work out, she assured herself. Nothing to worry about. She loved him, and he loved her, and as soon as she took care of Seti's (ug) "needs," they would flee to a faraway land and start a new life together. It was all going to be fine. Filled with a new confidence, she slipped through the gauzy curtains into her bedchamber and went to him, once again mesmerized by his captivating gaze.

She swept her hand down in front of his face in a smooth, sensual movement. What had at first been a compromise between no contact and forbidden touch had become a special greeting between them. Imhotep closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of her hand passing so close to his face.

Her message was momentarily forgotten as she leaned into his kiss. Seeing her paint, he was at first careful to touch only her unpainted face, but after a few moments of pressing his lips to hers he forgot everything but their passion, and began caressing her upper arm. In a daze of love, she didn't think to stop him until it was too late. No matter, she could repair the damage herself before--

The main doors to the chamber flew open. "What are you doing here?" came Seti's unmistakable voice. The question was directed at Imhotep's priests standing watch at the door, but he would soon discover who else was present. In a panic, Anck-su-Namun shooed Imhotep out onto the balcony, then dashed to pose against a statue of Bast in the most casual manner she could manage. When Pharaoh tore back the curtains, he found her standing alone. He was briefly confused, having expected to find her in the arms of a lover. Then his sharp eyes noticed the smudged paint high on her arm.

"Who has touched you?" he roared, pointing an accusing finger.

Anck-su-Namun tried to remain calm, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Imhotep sneaking in from the balcony. Her heart was pounding so loudly she feared Pharaoh could hear it. In another moment he would notice Imhotep's presence, and they would both be killed. Hatred boiled in her heart as she met Seti's suspicious gaze. Here was the man who had ruined her life, broken her spirit, battered her body, denied her basic human courtesy, kept her from the one she loved, and treated her like chattel. If anyone were to die here, it should be him. Never mind his rank. Such a lecherous and inconsiderate brute didn't deserve to wear the double crown.

Seti noticed too late the movement behind him and was unable to keep Imhotep from stealing his sword from the royal scabbard. "Imhotep?" he gasped. "My priest?!"

It was all the distraction Anck-su-Namun needed. She grabbed a long dagger from her private stock of weapons and drew in her breath before plunging the blade into the Pharaoh's unprotected back. Seti's yell of agony was cut short and then augmented as Imhotep got in a heavy blow with the stolen sword. Across the courtyard, Princess Nefertiri was calling for the guards. The next few moments were a blur of blood and flashing blades.

Suddenly, as if in a dream, Anck-su-Namun found herself standing over the mutilated corpse of the Lord of the Two Lands, a stained dagger in her hand.

There was a crash in the distance. The Med-Jai were coming. The golden priests rushed to Imhotep's side, faithful to the end, and attempted to drag him away. Protecting their High Priest was their only concern. Imhotep struggled against their well-meaning hands. "No! Let go of me!"

Concern for him overwhelmed her, pushing aside all thoughts of her own safety. "You must go, my love. You must save yourself!" she said desperately.

"No! I won't leave you!" he said with an agonized look, trying to pull away from the priests.

"Only you can resurrect me!"

He remembered, then, what he had said. It had seemed so abstract and impossible at the time. But now that it was happening...he knew she was right. He knew he had to go. But to leave her here alone, to take all the blame for this heinous deed--

A horde of Med-Jai burst into the room, and he went limp, allowing his priests to drag him onto the balcony just in time. When the guards reached the murder scene, Anck-su-Namun was the only person to be seen. Still clutching the bloody dagger, she narrowed her eyes at them. "My body is no longer his temple!" she proclaimed, raising the blade in the air in front of her. The point was pointed toward her own trembling body, however, not at the Med-Jai. Life without Imhotep wasn't worth living. If he could resurrect her and whisk her away to a better place, praise to the gods! But if he was unable to escape or unable to raise her, she'd wait for him in the Underworld for as long as it took. 

Before the Med-Jai could stop her, she thrust the sword through her stomach. There was an explosion of pain. Darkness rushed up to greet her, and her body fell to the marble floor as Anubis arrived to carry away her soul.

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Only her trust kept Imhotep from following suit. Anck-su-Namun had become his whole world. She was more important to him than the gods, Pharaoh, Egypt, or his own life. Her life, her happiness, her love...that was all that mattered. She deserved so much better than what fate had allotted her. If there was any way he could give her the life and love she deserved, he would do it, and damn the consequences.

Numbly, silently, he allowed his priests to steal him away, away from the palace, away from the bodies of Seti and Anck-su-Namun. Once he was safely back in the temple, he threw himself onto the bed--even now he could close his eyes and see her lying there--and wept.

But there was little time for grief. He had survived for a purpose. Anck-su-Namun had asked him to resurrect her, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

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	5. Beyond

Loved and Lost

Loved and Lost, Chapter 5  
Mummy fanfic by Katie Sullivan  
Rated PG-13

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Now that Seti was dead, in the eyes of believers he _was_ Osiris. His son, the next Pharaoh, was now Horus. Since Osiris was Imhotep's department, he was forced to put aside his anger and grief and conduct the funerary ceremony for the man he now hated more than any other.

He was to play no part in Anck-su-Namun's rites. The deaths of non-Pharaohs fell into Anubis' jurisdiction, anyway, but his beloved would be buried unblessed as punishment for her crimes. She would be mummified and placed in an unadorned tomb, buried as the commoner she had been at birth. There were far worse punishments that could be inflicted upon the dead, Imhotep knew. She was relatively lucky. With her body preserved, her _ka_ could theoretically live forever. If, of course, she passed the test of Anubis' scales. That was a stipulation even the Book of the Dead couldn't get around. If the deceased's heart was heavier then the feather of Ma'at, their soul would be devoured by a monstrous creature, and that person would cease to exist. How could a heart weighed down with the murder of the gods' representative on earth possibly pass such a test? 

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In a dreamy, almost drugged state, Anck-su-Namun walked at Anubis' side. Her feet were light and her movements fluid, as if she were walking on air. She should have been afraid. She should have been in despair. Instead she was completely calm, to the point of lethargy. Whatever was to happen would happen. She was past the point of bargaining and negotiating. Her fate was no longer in her hands...but in her heart.

The great jackal-headed god had her stand beside a giant scale. The contraption was made of gleaming gold, and one side contained a billowing ostrich plume. A woman, beautiful as only a goddess can be beautiful, stood beside it: Ma'at. Green-faced Osiris himself sat on a throne, overseeing the proceedings. The tall crown made him appear larger than the rest, or perhaps he really was. Size was impossible to judge in this cloudy world of Nothingness.

Anck-su-Namun dimly realized that Seti should be around here somewhere, but there was only herself and the deities. No other souls around. Neither Seti nor Imhotep. She knew Seti was no longer living in the mortal world. As for Imhotep...here she felt no concern, only a swelling of love. What would be, would be.

"Anck-su-Namun," intoned Thoth, the ibis-headed god of writing and knowledge. "Thine heart will now be weighed." He stretched out a feathery hand, and although he was not touching her, she felt him slowly draw her heart from her ghostly form. She felt no pain or discomfort. It felt like little more than exhaling. She blinked serenely.

Thoth placed the glowing shape of her heart on the empty side of the scale. It briefly dipped, raising the feather of Ma'at. She felt no alarm, no disappointment. She felt nothing.

The scale teetered uncertainly, as if it had a will of its own and was reluctant to make a decision.

Suddenly, Hathor was there. She did not "appear," exactly. She simply was not there one moment, and there the next. The cow-headed goddess had a voluptuous body beneath a softly-glowing white gown, projecting a sensuality appropriate for the goddess of love. "This woman is my servant," she intoned in a voice like silk. "What she hath done, she hath done in my name."

The scale came to rest, perfectly balanced.

Still, Anck-su-Namun felt nothing. No relief. No joy. Just serenity.

Anubis raised his hand. "It is so. Thine entrance to the Afterworld is granted," he proclaimed.

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Imhotep glanced up at the great statue of Anubis, feeling the stone god's gaze upon him. He knew the gods would not approve. He didn't care.

He strained against the stone case at the base of the statue, and with a satisfying *chunk* it slid open. His hands trembling, he reached in and pulled out the heavy black book. It radiated a supernatural chill, and he suppressed the urge to drop it. Nothing would stop him now.

He hurried deeper into the necropolis of Hamunaptra, clutching the book to his chest. His golden-skinned priests stood in silence, encircling the altar where the breathless form of Anck-su-Namun lay in state. A row of canopic jars stood beside her, containing her still-fresh internal organs. Imhotep stepped up to her, fighting tears. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon her eyes would open and once more look upon him with love. Soon her limbs would move to embrace him and her heart would beat in time with his. Soon she would be his, completely, and he would be hers. Soon.

He twisted the key on the cover seal, and the book clicked open, released a puff of otherworldly air that made him shiver. There it was: the spell to revive the dead. He swallowed and began to read, careful not to misspeak. The other priests droned a chant, fearful of the terrible forces they were disturbing.

The sacred pool began to bubble and seethe. Imhotep's heart raced. It was working! He kept reading.

A ghostly black sheet of..._something_...rose from the pool and lazily rose into the air, drifting on unseen currents of stale tomb air. As he read, it drew closer and closer, until it stretched out and was absorbed into Anck-su-Namun's corpse. She gasped for air, her eyes wide with fright. Trembling, she stared up at him, begging for him to help her. He steeled himself for the next part of the ceremony, putting the contents of those canopic jars back where they belonged. He readied the ceremonial knife. Soon, Anck-su-Namun...

Suddenly, there were Med-Jai everywhere. How they tracked him there, Imhotep would never know. All he knew was that they interrupted the ritual, and before he could react Anck-su-Namun's spirit fled from her body again. With an unearthly screech, it plunged back into the black depths of the pool. The Med-Jai apprehended his priests and dragged him away from the altar. He gave vent to a howl of frustration, rage and despair. He had seen the woman he loved die twice, now. It didn't get any easier.

They had failed to do the impossibly possible: raise the dead. Yet for even attempting such blasphemy, their punishment would be severe. Imhotep watched in speechless horror as the Med-Jai and priests of Anubis mummified his priests alive. It was obvious part of his punishment was watching the gruesome process. He tried but could not tear his eyes away from the bloody spectacle. These were not just his subservient priests; they were his friends. They had risked everything to aid his relationship with Anck-su-Namun...and lost.

As Imhotep watched the hellish scene, he wondered. What had gone wrong? How could love lead to such suffering? And what punishment awaited him? The Med-Jai were renowned for their ruthlessness. They would spare no mercy on him. Whatever they had planned would definitely be worse than what his priests were enduring. He couldn't imagine...didn't _want _to imagine what that could be.

Then he remembered the Hom-Dai. It was such an unthinkably horrible curse that it had never been inflicted on anyone, even the worst of criminals and blasphemers. He didn't even know why it existed. But that had to be it. There was nothing worse.

And so it was. They were scraping the sacred carvings off the sarcophagus. It was the Hom-Dai. He trembled in fear. No...

Imhotep was put in the sarcophagus, wrapped tightly in bandages. He was utterly helpless. The Med-Jai had removed his tongue so he couldn't even scream. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but wait.

It couldn't get any worse!

Then he heard a skittering, sickening sound through the bandages, and immediately recognized it: scarab beetles.

It had just gotten worse.

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Anck-su-Namun was in the Afterworld, awaiting the arrival of her true love. But he never came. Time was impossible to judge in the Afterlife, but she had to have been there longer than any human life span. She didn't understand. What could have happened? The gods wouldn't tell her.

There was supposed to be no suffering of any kind in the Afterworld, but Anck-su-Namun was besieged by worry for Imhotep. There were two possibilities. Either he had failed the test of the scales and had been devoured for all time by the monster, or he had been inflicted with the Hom-Dai, the living death. Either possibility broke her heart.

Finally her primary ally, Hathor, grew weary of her pleading and pestering. "My child, be at peace," the goddess said, holding out a delicate hand. "Thy love will be with thee again."

"But when?" Anck-su-Namun pressed. She wanted to cry, but such a thing was entirely unheard of in the Afterworld.

"Someday," the cow-headed deity said cryptically. "But heedest thou my warning. Be not afraid to risk returning here to prevent him from doing the same."

"I don't understand. Return? Here? What are you talking about, my goddess?"

"Thou wilt know when the time comes," the goddess said. "Yet ye will not remember," she said softly with a look of regret. "But such is the way of things. Now go, and be content in the knowledge that thine love loves thee still, and ye will be together again in time."

"Yes, O goddess," Anck-su-Namun said with a sigh, bowing as she departed.

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And so they waited through the millenia...

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_(Which of course brings us up to the twentieth-century events of The Mummy. Read my fics "In a Mummy's Voice," "Through a Mummy's Eyes" and "To Begin Again" (in that order) for my take on the rest of the saga.)_


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